My wife loves to relax naked, seducing and provoking men. Does your wife like to relax like that too?
Fantasies with AI
- Thread starter Outrageous_I
- Start date
I know that some of my wife's partners love to ******** on my wife after an orgy, fill her mouth with their urine, wash her face and tits with ...... But I love her so much that knowing all this, I still kiss her ...-stained lips, I adore her ...-stained tits...
Attachments
My wife showers after having sex with her lover and asks me to scrub her back with a washcloth. Oh, yes! I soap her back and ass, run my hand over her pussy...
My wife told me she was tired and that I could jerk off in the other room. And that I should leave her alone. Oh, yes, I understand, she's been fucked by eight people today, of course, I'll jerk off in the next room, let my darling rest...
joetanner
Male
Elena satisfies another client...
My wife surrounded by friends...
The mattress dipped with his weight, a familiar shift in the universe that sent a jolt straight to my cock. This. This was everything. The low light caught the sweat already sheening on Mark’s broad back, the muscles in his shoulders coiling as he positioned himself over my wife. Elena’s head was turned toward me, her eyes heavy-lidded and dark, a silent scream of want trapped in her parted lips. Her scent, her unique mix of perfume and pure arousal, filled the air, thick and intoxicating.
“You watching?” Mark’s voice was a low growl, not even looking at me. His focus was entirely on the prize beneath him. His hands, big and rough, slid under Elena’s ass, lifting her hips, opening her up. The sight of her pink, glistening cunt, exposed and begging, made my mouth water.
“Yeah,” I breathed out, my own hand finding my hard dick, giving it a slow, tight stroke. “I’m watching.”
Elena’s eyes locked with mine. “He’s so big,” she moaned, the words meant for me, a shared secret. “He’s going to split me in half.”
“Fuck yeah, I am,” Mark grunted, and with no more preamble, he drove his thick cock into her. Squick. A wet, perfect sound of entry. Elena’s back arched off the bed, a sharp gasp tearing from her throat. Her perfect tits bounced with the forse of his first thrust.
I could only stare, my hand working my own dick in time with his movements. In. Out. The rhythmic slap-slap-slap of his hips hammering against her ass was the only music we needed. Each impact was a wet, meaty thwack that echoed in the quiet room. Her slickness made a filthy, sucking noise every time he pulled back—shlllp—before plunging deep again—splurch.
“That’s my wife,” I whispered, the words fueling my own filthy excitement. “You like fucking my wife’s tight cunt?”
“I love fucking your wife’s tight cunt,” Mark groaned, his pace quickening, becoming brutal, possessive. “It’s so fucking wet for me. Gushing.” He leaned down, capturing one of her nipples in his mouth, sucking hard. Elena cried out, her fingers digging into his back, her hips bucking wildly to meet his thrusts. The sounds intensified—squelch, glrk, splat.
I moved closer, drawn to the heat they were generating. I could feel the vibration of their fucking through the mattress. I put my hand on Elena’s stomach, feeling the incredible tension there, the hard, deep impacts of Mark’s body slamming into hers. Her skin was on fire.
“Tell him,” I urged her, my voice hoarse. “Tell him what you want.”
Elena’s head thrashed on the pillow. “Harder! God, Mark, fuck me harder! I want to feel it tomorrow. I want to feel your fucking cock in my guts!” Her words were raw, unfiltered, and they made my balls draw up tight.
Mark obliged, his rhythm turning animalistic. The bedframe started a steady, frantic knocking against the wall. Bang. Bang. Bang. He pulled her legs up, hooking them over his arms, sinking into her even deeper. The new angle made Elena scream, a ragged, broken sound of pure euphoria. The wet sounds of their union were obscene now, a constant, sloshing splurch-splortch-splash with every piston-like drive of his hips.
I bent my head, my face inches from where they were joined. The scent of sex was overpowering, musky and sweet. I watched his dick, slick and shiny with her juices, disappear over and over into her stretched, willing flesh. Glrk. Squelch. A drop of their mixed arousal dripped onto the sheets with a soft plip.
“She’s gonna come,” Mark announced, his voice strained, his own release nearing. “I can feel her cunt squeezing my dick. You gonna come all over my cock, Elena? You gonna drench me?”
Her answer was a guttural, ...... moan. Her body went rigid, her cunt clamping down on him with a series of intense, fluttering spasms I could actually hear—a rapid, internal pulse-pulse-pulse. Mark fucked her through it, his thrusts becoming ragged, losing their rhythm.
“You watching?” Mark’s voice was a low growl, not even looking at me. His focus was entirely on the prize beneath him. His hands, big and rough, slid under Elena’s ass, lifting her hips, opening her up. The sight of her pink, glistening cunt, exposed and begging, made my mouth water.
“Yeah,” I breathed out, my own hand finding my hard dick, giving it a slow, tight stroke. “I’m watching.”
Elena’s eyes locked with mine. “He’s so big,” she moaned, the words meant for me, a shared secret. “He’s going to split me in half.”
“Fuck yeah, I am,” Mark grunted, and with no more preamble, he drove his thick cock into her. Squick. A wet, perfect sound of entry. Elena’s back arched off the bed, a sharp gasp tearing from her throat. Her perfect tits bounced with the forse of his first thrust.
I could only stare, my hand working my own dick in time with his movements. In. Out. The rhythmic slap-slap-slap of his hips hammering against her ass was the only music we needed. Each impact was a wet, meaty thwack that echoed in the quiet room. Her slickness made a filthy, sucking noise every time he pulled back—shlllp—before plunging deep again—splurch.
“That’s my wife,” I whispered, the words fueling my own filthy excitement. “You like fucking my wife’s tight cunt?”
“I love fucking your wife’s tight cunt,” Mark groaned, his pace quickening, becoming brutal, possessive. “It’s so fucking wet for me. Gushing.” He leaned down, capturing one of her nipples in his mouth, sucking hard. Elena cried out, her fingers digging into his back, her hips bucking wildly to meet his thrusts. The sounds intensified—squelch, glrk, splat.
I moved closer, drawn to the heat they were generating. I could feel the vibration of their fucking through the mattress. I put my hand on Elena’s stomach, feeling the incredible tension there, the hard, deep impacts of Mark’s body slamming into hers. Her skin was on fire.
“Tell him,” I urged her, my voice hoarse. “Tell him what you want.”
Elena’s head thrashed on the pillow. “Harder! God, Mark, fuck me harder! I want to feel it tomorrow. I want to feel your fucking cock in my guts!” Her words were raw, unfiltered, and they made my balls draw up tight.
Mark obliged, his rhythm turning animalistic. The bedframe started a steady, frantic knocking against the wall. Bang. Bang. Bang. He pulled her legs up, hooking them over his arms, sinking into her even deeper. The new angle made Elena scream, a ragged, broken sound of pure euphoria. The wet sounds of their union were obscene now, a constant, sloshing splurch-splortch-splash with every piston-like drive of his hips.
I bent my head, my face inches from where they were joined. The scent of sex was overpowering, musky and sweet. I watched his dick, slick and shiny with her juices, disappear over and over into her stretched, willing flesh. Glrk. Squelch. A drop of their mixed arousal dripped onto the sheets with a soft plip.
“She’s gonna come,” Mark announced, his voice strained, his own release nearing. “I can feel her cunt squeezing my dick. You gonna come all over my cock, Elena? You gonna drench me?”
Her answer was a guttural, ...... moan. Her body went rigid, her cunt clamping down on him with a series of intense, fluttering spasms I could actually hear—a rapid, internal pulse-pulse-pulse. Mark fucked her through it, his thrusts becoming ragged, losing their rhythm.
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“Where do you want it?” he gritted out, his whole body tensing. “Where do you want my fucking cum?”
“Inside me!” she begged, her eyes wide, pleading with me as much as with him. “Please, I need it inside me! Fill my fucking married pussy!”
That was all the permission he needed. With a final, shuddering roar, he buried himself to the hilt. I saw his ass clench, his back bow. The first hot jet pulsed deep inside her, a silent, powerful throb I could feel through my hand on her belly. Then another. And another. A low, satisfied groan rumbled in his chest. Spurt. Gush. The faint, wet sound of his release mixing with hers was the filthiest thing I’d ever heard.
He collapsed on top of her, both of them slick and heaving. The room fell semi-quiet, filled only with their ragged breaths and the frantic beating of my own heart. The air was thick with the smell of sweat and sex.
After a moment, Mark pulled out with a soft, wet shloop. I watched, mesmerized, as a trickle of his cum leaked from her well-used hole, a white pearl against her reddened skin. I couldn’t help myself. I leaned in, my tongue darting out to taste them both—her sweet arousal, his salty tang.
Elena’s hand found my hair, her grip weak but sure. She guided my mouth to hers, and I kissed her deeply, tasting our shared debauchery.
Mark rolled onto his back beside us, a deep chuckle in his throat. “Fuck. Your wife has a magical cunt.” He reached over, his big hand smearing the cum on her thigh. “You ready for your turn? Or you just gonna watch me go again?”
“Inside me!” she begged, her eyes wide, pleading with me as much as with him. “Please, I need it inside me! Fill my fucking married pussy!”
That was all the permission he needed. With a final, shuddering roar, he buried himself to the hilt. I saw his ass clench, his back bow. The first hot jet pulsed deep inside her, a silent, powerful throb I could feel through my hand on her belly. Then another. And another. A low, satisfied groan rumbled in his chest. Spurt. Gush. The faint, wet sound of his release mixing with hers was the filthiest thing I’d ever heard.
He collapsed on top of her, both of them slick and heaving. The room fell semi-quiet, filled only with their ragged breaths and the frantic beating of my own heart. The air was thick with the smell of sweat and sex.
After a moment, Mark pulled out with a soft, wet shloop. I watched, mesmerized, as a trickle of his cum leaked from her well-used hole, a white pearl against her reddened skin. I couldn’t help myself. I leaned in, my tongue darting out to taste them both—her sweet arousal, his salty tang.
Elena’s hand found my hair, her grip weak but sure. She guided my mouth to hers, and I kissed her deeply, tasting our shared debauchery.
Mark rolled onto his back beside us, a deep chuckle in his throat. “Fuck. Your wife has a magical cunt.” He reached over, his big hand smearing the cum on her thigh. “You ready for your turn? Or you just gonna watch me go again?”
The thick envelope of cash sat on our kitchen table like a confession. I didn’t need to count it. The weight alone told me everything. Fifty thousand dollars. My wife, Elena, stood before me, her gaze steady, a flicker of defiance mixed with a raw, hungry excitement in her eyes I hadn’t seen in years.
“They’re expecting me at the hotel in an hour,” she said, her voice low, a little rough. “The whole team. For the weekend.”
My cock twitched in my jeans, straining against the denim. The image hit me like a physical blow: my elegant wife, surrounded by giants. “All of them?” I managed to ...... out.
She nodded, a slow, wicked smile playing on her lips. “Every last one. It’s the championship bonus. Theirs and… mine.” She stepped closer, her fingers trailing up my chest. “You said we needed the money. You said it was just a fantasy. Well, baby, it’s real. And I want you to know every filthy detail when I get home.”
She left me there, staring at the money, my mind already racing, painting pictures I knew would haunt and arouse me for the next forty-eight hours.
*
The hotel suite door clicked shut behind her. Seven men, all towering over her, all muscle and focused intensity, stopped their low chatter. The air was thick with the scent of expensive cologne, sweat, and pure, undiluted testosterone. Malik, the team’s point guard and obvious ringleader, stepped forward. A grin spread across his face.
“Elena. Right on time.” His eyes raked over her body, from the nervous bite of her lip down to the way her simple black dress hugged her hips. “We’ve been talking about this all week.”
Another player, his skin glistening under the suite’s lights, came up behind her. His large hands settled on her shoulders, his thumbs digging into the tight muscles. “Looks like you could use a warm-up,” he rumbled, his voice like gravel.
She leaned back into his touch, a small moan escaping her. Mmmph. This was it. No turning back. Malik’s fingers found the zipper at the back of her dress. The sound was obscenely loud in the quiet room. Ziiip. The fabric sighed open, sliding down her arms to pool at her feet, leaving her in just a black lace bra and panties. A chorus of appreciative groans filled the air.
“Fuck, look at her,” someone muttered. “Perfect fucking tits.”
Malik didn’t waste time. He cupped her breast through the lace, his thumb circling her nipple until it was a hard peak. He unhooked her bra with a practiced flick, and her breasts spilled free, full and heavy. He dipped his head, his mouth closing over one taut nipple, his tongue flicking and sucking. Slurp. Gulp. Elena’s head fell back against the chest of the man behind her, her back arching, pressing her tit deeper into Malik’s hungry mouth.
The player behind her slid his hands down her arms, his fingers hooking into the sides of her panties. With a sharp tug, he ripped the thin lace. The sound was a gunshot. Riiip. Cool air hit her wet cunt, and she gasped. His hands were on her ass immediately, kneading the soft flesh, pulling her cheeks apart. A blunt, wet pressure pressed against her back door. His tongue. Lap. Slurp. He was eating her ass right there in the middle of the room.
Malik released her nipple with a wet pop. “On your knees, beautiful. Time to earn that bonus.”
Her knees hit the plush carpet. Malik unbuckled his pants, freeing a thick, dark cock already dripping with pre-cum. It was massive, veined, and the sight of it made her own pulse throb between her legs. He didn’t guide it to her mouth. He just slapped it against her cheek. Thwack. The heat of it, the sheer dominance of the act, sent a jolt straight to her core.
“Open that pretty mouth,” he commanded.
She did. He pushed the head past her lips, his grip firm on the back of her head. He didn’t thrust; he just fed his dick into her, inch by incredible inch, until her nose was buried in his coarse pubic hair and her throat stretched obscenely around his girth. Gllrk. She gagged, tears springing to her eyes, but he held her there.
“Yeah, take it all, you greedy bitch,” he grunted, his hips giving a slight pulse.
Another player moved in front of her, his cock in his hand, stroking it. “My turn next. Get that mouth ready.”
From behind, the man who had been feasting on her ass positioned himself. She felt the broad, slick head of his cock nudge against her soaked opening. He didn’t ask. He just pushed. Squelsh. A sharp, filling burn that melted into a deep, aching pleasure as he buried himself to the hilt in one smooth, powerful stroke. Splurt. Her cry was muffled by the cock in her throat as her cunt clenched around the sudden, thick invasion.
“They’re expecting me at the hotel in an hour,” she said, her voice low, a little rough. “The whole team. For the weekend.”
My cock twitched in my jeans, straining against the denim. The image hit me like a physical blow: my elegant wife, surrounded by giants. “All of them?” I managed to ...... out.
She nodded, a slow, wicked smile playing on her lips. “Every last one. It’s the championship bonus. Theirs and… mine.” She stepped closer, her fingers trailing up my chest. “You said we needed the money. You said it was just a fantasy. Well, baby, it’s real. And I want you to know every filthy detail when I get home.”
She left me there, staring at the money, my mind already racing, painting pictures I knew would haunt and arouse me for the next forty-eight hours.
*
The hotel suite door clicked shut behind her. Seven men, all towering over her, all muscle and focused intensity, stopped their low chatter. The air was thick with the scent of expensive cologne, sweat, and pure, undiluted testosterone. Malik, the team’s point guard and obvious ringleader, stepped forward. A grin spread across his face.
“Elena. Right on time.” His eyes raked over her body, from the nervous bite of her lip down to the way her simple black dress hugged her hips. “We’ve been talking about this all week.”
Another player, his skin glistening under the suite’s lights, came up behind her. His large hands settled on her shoulders, his thumbs digging into the tight muscles. “Looks like you could use a warm-up,” he rumbled, his voice like gravel.
She leaned back into his touch, a small moan escaping her. Mmmph. This was it. No turning back. Malik’s fingers found the zipper at the back of her dress. The sound was obscenely loud in the quiet room. Ziiip. The fabric sighed open, sliding down her arms to pool at her feet, leaving her in just a black lace bra and panties. A chorus of appreciative groans filled the air.
“Fuck, look at her,” someone muttered. “Perfect fucking tits.”
Malik didn’t waste time. He cupped her breast through the lace, his thumb circling her nipple until it was a hard peak. He unhooked her bra with a practiced flick, and her breasts spilled free, full and heavy. He dipped his head, his mouth closing over one taut nipple, his tongue flicking and sucking. Slurp. Gulp. Elena’s head fell back against the chest of the man behind her, her back arching, pressing her tit deeper into Malik’s hungry mouth.
The player behind her slid his hands down her arms, his fingers hooking into the sides of her panties. With a sharp tug, he ripped the thin lace. The sound was a gunshot. Riiip. Cool air hit her wet cunt, and she gasped. His hands were on her ass immediately, kneading the soft flesh, pulling her cheeks apart. A blunt, wet pressure pressed against her back door. His tongue. Lap. Slurp. He was eating her ass right there in the middle of the room.
Malik released her nipple with a wet pop. “On your knees, beautiful. Time to earn that bonus.”
Her knees hit the plush carpet. Malik unbuckled his pants, freeing a thick, dark cock already dripping with pre-cum. It was massive, veined, and the sight of it made her own pulse throb between her legs. He didn’t guide it to her mouth. He just slapped it against her cheek. Thwack. The heat of it, the sheer dominance of the act, sent a jolt straight to her core.
“Open that pretty mouth,” he commanded.
She did. He pushed the head past her lips, his grip firm on the back of her head. He didn’t thrust; he just fed his dick into her, inch by incredible inch, until her nose was buried in his coarse pubic hair and her throat stretched obscenely around his girth. Gllrk. She gagged, tears springing to her eyes, but he held her there.
“Yeah, take it all, you greedy bitch,” he grunted, his hips giving a slight pulse.
Another player moved in front of her, his cock in his hand, stroking it. “My turn next. Get that mouth ready.”
From behind, the man who had been feasting on her ass positioned himself. She felt the broad, slick head of his cock nudge against her soaked opening. He didn’t ask. He just pushed. Squelsh. A sharp, filling burn that melted into a deep, aching pleasure as he buried himself to the hilt in one smooth, powerful stroke. Splurt. Her cry was muffled by the cock in her throat as her cunt clenched around the sudden, thick invasion.
The room dissolved into a symphony of flesh and filthy sounds. The man in her cunt set a punishing rhythm, his balls slapping against her clit with every deep drive. Smack. Smack. Smack. Each impact sent shocks of pleasure through her. Malik began to fuck her face in time, his thrusts becoming harder, faster, fucking her throat like it was just another hole. Glrk. Gulp. Glrk.
The taste of pre-cum filled her mouth, salty and bitter. Her vision started to blur at the edges, a dizzying euphoria taking over. She was just a body, a collection of desperate, used holes, and it was the most alive she’d ever felt. The third player tapped his cock on her forehead. “Spit-shine this dick, baby. It’s gonna be in that sweet ass next.”
Malik’s thrusts turned jagged, erratic. His fingers tangled in her hair, holding her immobile. “Gonna fill that fucking stomach,” he growled, his voice thick. His whole body tensed. Splurt. Gush. Hot, thick jets of cum shot down her throat. Gurgle. She swallowed desperately, again and again, as he emptied himself, the salty warmth flooding her.
He pulled out, his slick dick sliding from her lips with a final pop. She gasped for air, her body trembling, but there was no respite. The next player guided his cock to her lips, smearing the head through the mess of spit and cum on her chin.
“Clean me up, sweetheart,” he said, pushing inside. “Then you’re gonna ride me while Jamal takes that tight little ass.”
The man buried deep in her cunt leaned over her, his chest pressed against her back, his breath hot in her ear. “You feel that, Elena? You feel how fucking deep I am? Your pussy’s milking my dick. You gonna come for me? You gonna squirt all over my fucking cock?”
She could only moan around the new dick in her mouth, her body quaking, teetering on the very edge. The pleasure was a tidal wave, and she was seconds from going under. The first orgasm of the weekend was building, a raw, screaming tension in her belly.
“That’s it, baby,” the man in her cunt grunted, pounding into her with brutal, perfect precision. “Let it go. Soak my fucking dick. Do it. Now
The taste of pre-cum filled her mouth, salty and bitter. Her vision started to blur at the edges, a dizzying euphoria taking over. She was just a body, a collection of desperate, used holes, and it was the most alive she’d ever felt. The third player tapped his cock on her forehead. “Spit-shine this dick, baby. It’s gonna be in that sweet ass next.”
Malik’s thrusts turned jagged, erratic. His fingers tangled in her hair, holding her immobile. “Gonna fill that fucking stomach,” he growled, his voice thick. His whole body tensed. Splurt. Gush. Hot, thick jets of cum shot down her throat. Gurgle. She swallowed desperately, again and again, as he emptied himself, the salty warmth flooding her.
He pulled out, his slick dick sliding from her lips with a final pop. She gasped for air, her body trembling, but there was no respite. The next player guided his cock to her lips, smearing the head through the mess of spit and cum on her chin.
“Clean me up, sweetheart,” he said, pushing inside. “Then you’re gonna ride me while Jamal takes that tight little ass.”
The man buried deep in her cunt leaned over her, his chest pressed against her back, his breath hot in her ear. “You feel that, Elena? You feel how fucking deep I am? Your pussy’s milking my dick. You gonna come for me? You gonna squirt all over my fucking cock?”
She could only moan around the new dick in her mouth, her body quaking, teetering on the very edge. The pleasure was a tidal wave, and she was seconds from going under. The first orgasm of the weekend was building, a raw, screaming tension in her belly.
“That’s it, baby,” the man in her cunt grunted, pounding into her with brutal, perfect precision. “Let it go. Soak my fucking dick. Do it. Now
The world narrowed to the brutal, perfect rhythm of the cocks pistoning into her. The man in her pussy drove deeper with every thrust, his pubic bone grinding against her clit, each smack of his hips against her ass sending a fresh shockwave through her system. The one in her mouth, a player named Isaiah, held her head steady, fucking her throat with shallow, possessive jabs. Glrk. Glrk.
“That’s it, baby,” the man in her cunt grunted, his voice a low rumble against her back. “You’re gonna come. I can feel that cunt clamping down. Do it. Soak my fucking dick.”
Her orgasm exploded out of nowhere, a silent, screaming detonation that seized her whole body. Her back arched, her fingers clawed at the carpet, and her cunt convulsed around the thick invasion, a series of violent, fluttering spasms that milked his shaft. Squelch. Squelch. A guttural cry was torn from her, muffled by the cock stuffing her mouth.
“Fuck yeah, there it is!” he roared, pounding into her through the contractions, extending her pleasure into a near-painful bliss.
Isaiah pulled his wet dick from her mouth with a wet pop. “My turn in that prime real estate,” he said, stepping back.
Before she could even gasp for a full breath, Malik’s commanding voice cut through the haze. “Enough of the floor. Get her on the table. I want that ass in the air. Jamal, you’ve been patient.”
Strong hands hooked under her arms, lifting her. Her legs wobbled, slick with sweat and her own arousal. They half-carried, half-dragged her to a heavy oak table near the window, sweeping a lamp and a stack of menus onto the floor with a crash. They bent her over it, her cheek pressed against the cool, polished wood. Her full, heavy breasts were flattened beneath her, nipples hard and sensitive against the surface. Someone—Jamal—grabbed her hips, yanking her ass high into the air, putting her entire dripping cunt and tight, pink asshole on blatant display for the room.
“Look at that view,” Malik murmured, his hand coming down on one ass cheek with a sharp crack that made her jolt and cry out. The sting bloomed into a deep, delicious heat.
She heard the rip of a foil packet, then the wet sound of a cock being slicked. Jamal’s broad, calloused hands spread her cheeks wide, his thumbs pressing against her rim. “This tight little ass is all mine now, Elena. Gonna stretch it wide open.”
The broad, slick head of his dick pressed against her back door. He didn’t ask. He just applied pressure, a relentless, burning intrusion that made her gasp and push back against it, wanting it and fearing it all at once. Mmmnpfh! Her eyes squeezed shut. He pushed past the tight ring of muscle with one brutal, glorious shove. Splortch. A sound so lewd, so filthy, it made her cunt gush anew. He was huge, thicker than the others, and the feeling of being utterly filled, front and back, was overwhelming.
He didn’t give her time to adjust. He set a deep, punishing pace, each thrust a masterclass in anal domination. Thump. Thump. Thump. His balls slammed against her drooling pussy with every drive.
“Fuck, she’s tight,” Jamal grunted, his voice strained with effort. “Like a fucking vise.”
Malik appeared in front of her, his massive, re-hardened cock bobbing near her face. He slapped it against her cheek, then smeared the leaking pre-cum across her lips. “Open up, whore. You’ve got two holes free. That greedy mouth is one of them.”
She opened obediently, and he fed his length to her, fucking her face with slow, deep strokes that made her gag and drool. Gllrk. Gulp.
The symphony of her degradation was everything she never knew she needed. The smack of Jamal’s hips against her ass, the gurgle of her own spit as Malik used her throat, the ragged grunts of the men surrounding her. The air was thick with the musk of sex and sweat.
Another player, his skin gleaming, stepped to the side of the table. He fisted his thick cock, stroking it in time with Jamal’s thrusts. “Gonna paint those perfect tits, Elena,” he moaned, his eyes locked on where her breasts were crushed against the wood.
“That’s it, baby,” the man in her cunt grunted, his voice a low rumble against her back. “You’re gonna come. I can feel that cunt clamping down. Do it. Soak my fucking dick.”
Her orgasm exploded out of nowhere, a silent, screaming detonation that seized her whole body. Her back arched, her fingers clawed at the carpet, and her cunt convulsed around the thick invasion, a series of violent, fluttering spasms that milked his shaft. Squelch. Squelch. A guttural cry was torn from her, muffled by the cock stuffing her mouth.
“Fuck yeah, there it is!” he roared, pounding into her through the contractions, extending her pleasure into a near-painful bliss.
Isaiah pulled his wet dick from her mouth with a wet pop. “My turn in that prime real estate,” he said, stepping back.
Before she could even gasp for a full breath, Malik’s commanding voice cut through the haze. “Enough of the floor. Get her on the table. I want that ass in the air. Jamal, you’ve been patient.”
Strong hands hooked under her arms, lifting her. Her legs wobbled, slick with sweat and her own arousal. They half-carried, half-dragged her to a heavy oak table near the window, sweeping a lamp and a stack of menus onto the floor with a crash. They bent her over it, her cheek pressed against the cool, polished wood. Her full, heavy breasts were flattened beneath her, nipples hard and sensitive against the surface. Someone—Jamal—grabbed her hips, yanking her ass high into the air, putting her entire dripping cunt and tight, pink asshole on blatant display for the room.
“Look at that view,” Malik murmured, his hand coming down on one ass cheek with a sharp crack that made her jolt and cry out. The sting bloomed into a deep, delicious heat.
She heard the rip of a foil packet, then the wet sound of a cock being slicked. Jamal’s broad, calloused hands spread her cheeks wide, his thumbs pressing against her rim. “This tight little ass is all mine now, Elena. Gonna stretch it wide open.”
The broad, slick head of his dick pressed against her back door. He didn’t ask. He just applied pressure, a relentless, burning intrusion that made her gasp and push back against it, wanting it and fearing it all at once. Mmmnpfh! Her eyes squeezed shut. He pushed past the tight ring of muscle with one brutal, glorious shove. Splortch. A sound so lewd, so filthy, it made her cunt gush anew. He was huge, thicker than the others, and the feeling of being utterly filled, front and back, was overwhelming.
He didn’t give her time to adjust. He set a deep, punishing pace, each thrust a masterclass in anal domination. Thump. Thump. Thump. His balls slammed against her drooling pussy with every drive.
“Fuck, she’s tight,” Jamal grunted, his voice strained with effort. “Like a fucking vise.”
Malik appeared in front of her, his massive, re-hardened cock bobbing near her face. He slapped it against her cheek, then smeared the leaking pre-cum across her lips. “Open up, whore. You’ve got two holes free. That greedy mouth is one of them.”
She opened obediently, and he fed his length to her, fucking her face with slow, deep strokes that made her gag and drool. Gllrk. Gulp.
The symphony of her degradation was everything she never knew she needed. The smack of Jamal’s hips against her ass, the gurgle of her own spit as Malik used her throat, the ragged grunts of the men surrounding her. The air was thick with the musk of sex and sweat.
Another player, his skin gleaming, stepped to the side of the table. He fisted his thick cock, stroking it in time with Jamal’s thrusts. “Gonna paint those perfect tits, Elena,” he moaned, his eyes locked on where her breasts were crushed against the wood.
He worked his dick faster, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. “Yeah, gonna mark you. Fuck, you look good getting split in half.” His strokes became frantic. Splurt. Splurt. Thick, hot ropes of cum shot across her back, her shoulders, painting her skin white. Another pulse hit her directly on the side of her face, dripping down onto the table. Gush.
Malik pulled his dick from her mouth, a string of saliva and pre-cum connecting her lips to his tip. “Your turn, Jamal. Fill that ass up. Let her feel it.”
Jamal’s rhythm fractured. His thrusts became short, savage jerks. He buried himself to the hilt, his body shuddering against hers. She felt the hot, distinct pulse of his release through the latex deep inside her rectum. Spurt. Spurt. He held himself there, grinding against her, milking every last drop into the condom with a long, low groan.
He pulled out slowly, the condom squelching as it left her stretched hole. The sudden emptiness was a strange, aching void.
But the emptiness didn’t last. Malik was already moving behind her, his hand guiding his bare, slick cock. He nudged the head through the mess of cum and her own slickness, not at her ass, but at her well-fucked, sensitive cunt.
“My pussy now,” he growled, and with one powerful thrust, he sheathed his entire magnificent length inside her. Squelch.
He didn’t move. He just leaned over her, his chest against her cum-splattered back, his mouth at her ear. His voice was a low, possessive rumble that vibrated through her entire being.
“This cunt is still dripping from the last guy, but it’s mine. You feel that, Elena? You feel how deep my cock is? This fucking pussy belongs to me now. You’re gonna come again. And you’re gonna scream my name when you do.”
Malik pulled his dick from her mouth, a string of saliva and pre-cum connecting her lips to his tip. “Your turn, Jamal. Fill that ass up. Let her feel it.”
Jamal’s rhythm fractured. His thrusts became short, savage jerks. He buried himself to the hilt, his body shuddering against hers. She felt the hot, distinct pulse of his release through the latex deep inside her rectum. Spurt. Spurt. He held himself there, grinding against her, milking every last drop into the condom with a long, low groan.
He pulled out slowly, the condom squelching as it left her stretched hole. The sudden emptiness was a strange, aching void.
But the emptiness didn’t last. Malik was already moving behind her, his hand guiding his bare, slick cock. He nudged the head through the mess of cum and her own slickness, not at her ass, but at her well-fucked, sensitive cunt.
“My pussy now,” he growled, and with one powerful thrust, he sheathed his entire magnificent length inside her. Squelch.
He didn’t move. He just leaned over her, his chest against her cum-splattered back, his mouth at her ear. His voice was a low, possessive rumble that vibrated through her entire being.
“This cunt is still dripping from the last guy, but it’s mine. You feel that, Elena? You feel how deep my cock is? This fucking pussy belongs to me now. You’re gonna come again. And you’re gonna scream my name when you do.”
The possessive rumble of Malik’s voice against her back was a brand. This fucking pussy belongs to me now. And then he proved it, his cock pistoning inside her with a brutal, ownership that left no room for argument. Each powerful thrust was a claim staked deep within her, the wet squelch of her well-used cunt a testament to his dominance. Her body, already vibrating from the peak Jamal had wrung from her ass, began to coil tightly again, a spring wound by Malik’s unrelenting pace.
“That’s it, take it,” Malik grunted, his hands vise-like on her hips, holding her in place for his punishment. “Your husband’s never fucked you like this, has he? Never filled you up like a worthless fucking gangbang slut.”
Spurt. Gush. Her second orgasm tore through her with a silent, breathless intensity, her cunt clamping down around his invading length in a series of frantic, fluttering spasms that milked his cock. A broken, airless cry was the only sound she could make.
Malik fucked her through it, his own release building. “Gonna flood this cunt,” he snarled, his rhythm turning ragged. He slammed into her one last time, burying himself to the hilt as his body locked up against hers. She felt the hot, distinct pulse of his cum flooding her depths, jet after jet painting her insides. Splurt. Splurt. He collapsed over her, his sweat-slicked chest heaving against her cum-stained back.
The doorbell rang.
The sound was so alien, so utterly out of place in the symphony of grunts and wet flesh, that for a moment, nobody moved. It rang again, insistent.
Malik pulled out of her with a wet, sucking pop. “Isaiah,” he said, not even looking at the door. “See who the fuck that is.”
Elena stayed bent over the table, her body humming, dripping Malik’s seed down her inner thighs. She heard Isaiah’s heavy footsteps cross the suite, the click of the door unlatching.
A voice, familiar and strained, cut through the sex-thick air. “Elena? Baby? I’m here to—what the fuck?”
Her husband.
Isaiah’s form filled the doorway, blocking the view. “She’s busy,” he said, his voice a low, amused rumble.
“Get out of my way. Elena!”
Isaiah didn’t budge. He glanced back into the room, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “Sorry, man. The guys with your wife are not finished yet.” With that, he gave the door a shove. The heavy thud of it closing echoed through the suite, followed by the definitive click of the lock.
Silence. Then, Malik started to laugh, a deep, genuine sound of pure amusement. The other men joined in. The humiliation was a fresh, sharp spice in the stew of her degradation. Her husband was on the other side of that door. He’d heard. He’d seen Isaiah’s naked, gleaming body. He knew.
Malik swatted her ass, the sting pulling her from her thoughts. “Looks like the show’s just getting started, Elena. Your number one fan is waiting.” He turned to the room. “Who’s next? Let’s give him something to listen to.”
Isaiah was already walking back, his thick, heavy cock swinging with each step, already hard again. He didn’t walk to her front or her back. He moved to the side of the table. “Up,” he commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument.
Her muscles screamed in protest as she pushed herself up, turning to sit on the edge of the table. Her legs dangled, her entire body on display, glistening with sweat and layers of drying cum.
Isaiah stepped between her knees, his hands gripping her thighs, forsing them apart wider. “He heard you come for Malik,” he said, his eyes locked on hers. “Now he’s gonna hear you scream for me.”
He didn’t guide his cock. He just positioned the broad, purple head at her slick, swollen entrance and surged forward. Squelsh. The forse of his entry drove her back, her palms slapping against the wood. He was thick, impossibly so, and he filled her in one relentless, breathtaking stroke.
“Fuck!” The curse ripped from her, loud and unrestrained.
“Yeah, that’s it,” Isaiah grunted, his hands moving to her waist, lifting her and slamming her back down onto his dick. “Let him hear what a dirty fucking whore he married.” Smack. Smack. The sound of their bodies meeting was obscenely loud, a sharp counter-rhythm to his ragged breathing.
“That’s it, take it,” Malik grunted, his hands vise-like on her hips, holding her in place for his punishment. “Your husband’s never fucked you like this, has he? Never filled you up like a worthless fucking gangbang slut.”
Spurt. Gush. Her second orgasm tore through her with a silent, breathless intensity, her cunt clamping down around his invading length in a series of frantic, fluttering spasms that milked his cock. A broken, airless cry was the only sound she could make.
Malik fucked her through it, his own release building. “Gonna flood this cunt,” he snarled, his rhythm turning ragged. He slammed into her one last time, burying himself to the hilt as his body locked up against hers. She felt the hot, distinct pulse of his cum flooding her depths, jet after jet painting her insides. Splurt. Splurt. He collapsed over her, his sweat-slicked chest heaving against her cum-stained back.
The doorbell rang.
The sound was so alien, so utterly out of place in the symphony of grunts and wet flesh, that for a moment, nobody moved. It rang again, insistent.
Malik pulled out of her with a wet, sucking pop. “Isaiah,” he said, not even looking at the door. “See who the fuck that is.”
Elena stayed bent over the table, her body humming, dripping Malik’s seed down her inner thighs. She heard Isaiah’s heavy footsteps cross the suite, the click of the door unlatching.
A voice, familiar and strained, cut through the sex-thick air. “Elena? Baby? I’m here to—what the fuck?”
Her husband.
Isaiah’s form filled the doorway, blocking the view. “She’s busy,” he said, his voice a low, amused rumble.
“Get out of my way. Elena!”
Isaiah didn’t budge. He glanced back into the room, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “Sorry, man. The guys with your wife are not finished yet.” With that, he gave the door a shove. The heavy thud of it closing echoed through the suite, followed by the definitive click of the lock.
Silence. Then, Malik started to laugh, a deep, genuine sound of pure amusement. The other men joined in. The humiliation was a fresh, sharp spice in the stew of her degradation. Her husband was on the other side of that door. He’d heard. He’d seen Isaiah’s naked, gleaming body. He knew.
Malik swatted her ass, the sting pulling her from her thoughts. “Looks like the show’s just getting started, Elena. Your number one fan is waiting.” He turned to the room. “Who’s next? Let’s give him something to listen to.”
Isaiah was already walking back, his thick, heavy cock swinging with each step, already hard again. He didn’t walk to her front or her back. He moved to the side of the table. “Up,” he commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument.
Her muscles screamed in protest as she pushed herself up, turning to sit on the edge of the table. Her legs dangled, her entire body on display, glistening with sweat and layers of drying cum.
Isaiah stepped between her knees, his hands gripping her thighs, forsing them apart wider. “He heard you come for Malik,” he said, his eyes locked on hers. “Now he’s gonna hear you scream for me.”
He didn’t guide his cock. He just positioned the broad, purple head at her slick, swollen entrance and surged forward. Squelsh. The forse of his entry drove her back, her palms slapping against the wood. He was thick, impossibly so, and he filled her in one relentless, breathtaking stroke.
“Fuck!” The curse ripped from her, loud and unrestrained.
“Yeah, that’s it,” Isaiah grunted, his hands moving to her waist, lifting her and slamming her back down onto his dick. “Let him hear what a dirty fucking whore he married.” Smack. Smack. The sound of their bodies meeting was obscenely loud, a sharp counter-rhythm to his ragged breathing.
He leaned over her, his face inches from hers. “Tell me what you are.”
“I’m… I’m your whore,” she panted, the words feeling foreign and electric on her tongue.
“Louder.” He drove into her, a punishing thrust that made her eyes roll back.
“I’m your fucking whore!” she cried out, knowing her husband was just feet away, hearing every word, every filthy sound.
Splurt. Her cunt gushed around him, the new orgasm shocking her with its sudden violence. Isaiah fucked her through it, his pace never slowing. “Yeah, soak my dick, you filthy bitch. Let him hear you squirt all over my cock.”
He changed his angle, lifting her hips higher, driving deeper. The head of his cock rubbed a spot inside her that made white light flash behind her eyelids. Oh god. Her mouth fell open in a silent scream.
“You wanna come again?” he taunted, his thrusts becoming shorter, harder, more focused. “You wanna scream my name for your cuckold husband?”
She could only nod frantically, her body tensing, coiling for the fall.
“Then beg for it.” Smack. Smack. Smack.
“Please, Isaiah,” she moaned, the name feeling dangerous and new. “Please, let me come. I need it. I need to fucking come on your cock.”
“Good girl.” His fingers dug into her hips, his own control shattering. His thrusts lost all rhythm, becoming a frantic, animalistic pounding. Glrk. Squelsh. Smack. The table screeched against the floor with their forse.
She felt his cock swell inside her, the first hot jet of his release triggering her own. Her back arched off the table, a raw, ragged scream tearing from her throat, a scream meant for Isaiah, for the room, for the man listening at the door.
Isaiah’s groan was a raw, guttural thing as he emptied himself into her, pulse after pulse of hot cum joining the mess Malik had left behind. Splurt. Gush. He held himself deep, grinding against her clit as he spasmed inside her.
He finally stilled, both of them panting, dripping, utterly spent. He pulled out slowly, his softening cock making a wet, sucking sound. Sploosh. A river of their mixed release immediately spilled out of her gaping cunt and onto the table.
Isaiah stepped back, looking down at the ruin of her. He grinned. “Think he heard that?”
“I’m… I’m your whore,” she panted, the words feeling foreign and electric on her tongue.
“Louder.” He drove into her, a punishing thrust that made her eyes roll back.
“I’m your fucking whore!” she cried out, knowing her husband was just feet away, hearing every word, every filthy sound.
Splurt. Her cunt gushed around him, the new orgasm shocking her with its sudden violence. Isaiah fucked her through it, his pace never slowing. “Yeah, soak my dick, you filthy bitch. Let him hear you squirt all over my cock.”
He changed his angle, lifting her hips higher, driving deeper. The head of his cock rubbed a spot inside her that made white light flash behind her eyelids. Oh god. Her mouth fell open in a silent scream.
“You wanna come again?” he taunted, his thrusts becoming shorter, harder, more focused. “You wanna scream my name for your cuckold husband?”
She could only nod frantically, her body tensing, coiling for the fall.
“Then beg for it.” Smack. Smack. Smack.
“Please, Isaiah,” she moaned, the name feeling dangerous and new. “Please, let me come. I need it. I need to fucking come on your cock.”
“Good girl.” His fingers dug into her hips, his own control shattering. His thrusts lost all rhythm, becoming a frantic, animalistic pounding. Glrk. Squelsh. Smack. The table screeched against the floor with their forse.
She felt his cock swell inside her, the first hot jet of his release triggering her own. Her back arched off the table, a raw, ragged scream tearing from her throat, a scream meant for Isaiah, for the room, for the man listening at the door.
Isaiah’s groan was a raw, guttural thing as he emptied himself into her, pulse after pulse of hot cum joining the mess Malik had left behind. Splurt. Gush. He held himself deep, grinding against her clit as he spasmed inside her.
He finally stilled, both of them panting, dripping, utterly spent. He pulled out slowly, his softening cock making a wet, sucking sound. Sploosh. A river of their mixed release immediately spilled out of her gaping cunt and onto the table.
Isaiah stepped back, looking down at the ruin of her. He grinned. “Think he heard that?”
